Parting Words
by Scribbler
Summary: [one shot] When you could be seeing someone for the last time, you're supposed to say something significant and memorable. When either of you could die, you're supposed to make the big admissions. It should be easy. It isn't. [SpeedyBumblebee]


**Disclaimer: **Really honestly and truly not mine.

**A/N:** Because I found a line in one of my old notebooks that demanded a fic to go around it. Reviews appreciated!

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_**Parting Words**_

© Scribbler, July 2007.

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The Steel City Fire Station was nothing to write home about, unless your home was _in _Steel City, in which case you might send a postcard that read, 'You do not want your house to catch fire in this city.' It did, however, afford a good view of the surrounding area.

"They're fucked."

"They're not fucked. And don't use language like that. We're s'posed to be setting an example."

"Fuck setting an example. Nobody can hear me."

"_I_ can hear you."

"Fuck that. They're totally fucked and you know it." Speedy turned to Bumblebee, his jaw set in a grim line. "Totally fucked."

She sighed. It was as much of an admission as she was likely to give.

Somewhere in the streets below were their two youngest teammates, and somewhere with them were a smashed communicator and an escaped Star Labs mutant that had led to Speedy's assertion. The problem was that somewhere on the other side of town Aqualad was single-handedly fighting an offensive by an anarchic, anti-human faction of Atlanteans and also needed backup. Two crises and two of them. The math wasn't hard.

Bumblebee was a good strategist and knew this, but she still hated dividing their forces. Especially since she and Speedy had only just finished subduing the other Star Labs escapee and were nursing injuries of their own. She wouldn't be able to land on her ankle for a while and –

"You lost some blood back there."

Speedy didn't touch the bandage on his chest. She wasn't great at triage, but she wasn't bad either. Her hands hadn't trembled once as she padded the wound and wrapped it in gauze. He hadn't winced when she caught the edges, either. Macho pig.

"It'll heal."

"You'd be better against one big threat than lots of smaller ones."

"You're telling me to go to Mas y Menos?"

She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded. "Keep a safe distance. Long range attacks. Try the electrified netting again – it worked well this time." Except where it'd caught her left shoulder and burned off a lump of flesh, but he didn't need to know that.

"Except when my aim gets lousy and I hit my own teammates."

Damn.

"It's was my fault. I said to fire while I held that thing down."

"But -"

"Leave it." She injected steel into her voice that brooked no argument, even from him.

She could strafe the Atlanteans from the air while Aqualad pincered them from the side. She'd be less likely to drown than Speedy. Besides, he was more tired than her. She could see it in the set of his shoulders and squared her own so he wouldn't try reading her the same way.

"You're not fooling anyone, babycakes."

"Don't call me babycakes." Her wings fluttered irritably. He always knew how to push her buttons.

"Okay. But putting your shoulders back like that makes your tits look bigger."

She cuffed him, but only lightly. He might have a concussion after that crack to the head. She wanted to send him straight back to the Tower, but knew she couldn't. A leader had to make the tough decisions. A Titan had to safeguard the public using whatever means available.

She bit the inside of her cheek harder.

A roar went up from the docks. She couldn't hear gunfire from the assembled cops, but it would be there. Sometimes it was good to have them on side, but sometimes they were a threat as much as the enemy. One bad shot wouldn't kill them in their Kevlar-laced costumes, but get distracted for a moment in battle and it could be your last.

"Go," she said before she could change her mind.

"You didn't say please," Speedy remarked, but made to fire a wire that he could slide down to the next building.

She rose into the air, but suddenly turned back. He was securing the end of the wire so it could take his weight, face half-obscured in the flickering streetlamp. The bandages on his chest were already dirty and the bruise on his cheek looked dark purple.

"Speedy!"

He paused. He hadn't expected more from her. When she gave an order she Gave an Order. "Yeah?"

Bumblebee wavered. "Just, um … y'know." Her voice came out too soft – too pathetic. She couldn't use that voice to say important things. "Just … don't die," she finished lamely.

There was a beat while he stared at her, as though processing this. She was better at reading expressions through a mask than when she first met him, but sometimes it was just that – a mask, and the person underneath could be anyone. _He _could be anyone, because how much did they actually know about each other? They'd saved each other's lives, fought over the last cookie and screamed insults across the laundry room, but they still called each other by their codenames. Sometimes she wanted to rip that mask off even more than their enemies did.

Then he grinned that stupid, cocky grin of his and replied, "Back atcha, babycakes."

Her stomach twisted. "I _said_ not to call me that."

"Whatever."

It was as much of an admission as either of them ever gave.

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_**Fin.**_

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End file.
